


the matchmaker

by andnowforyaya



Series: yaya's winter writing blast 2015 [7]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Dystopia, Fortune Telling, Kinda, M/M, Soulmates, past younglo too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a break-up, Himchan drags Youngjae to the fortune teller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

> for [yoo_is_squishy](https://twitter.com/yoo_is_squishy) who wanted:
> 
> DaeJae - um I always wanted this but I really really want fortune teller Dae with all this pretty jewellery and flowy clothes and he's always flirty around Youngjae who is a client only because Himchan drags him there sometimes. Youngjae is really attracted to Daehyun but doesn't know what to say. Daehyun gives him tips on how to be cautious in life and how Youngjae will find someone special. But Daehyun is the only one who knows, he's the one for Youngjae :D he's quite forward about it and then they get together ;; something a little silly but cute 
> 
> \--
> 
> i set this in a weird dystopian-ish au… /o\ because obviously i read “silly but cute” and thought “possible dystopia” whoops sorry this is not silly and cute

“You’ll love him,” Himchan says, eyes going bright with excitement as he takes Youngjae’s hand. “This will be great -- this is just what you need, Youngjae. My fortune teller has never steered me wrong; a couple of months back he told me I would develop a new passion and then I got into wine, and just last month he told me to be extra careful driving and _that day_ I narrowly avoided a big car crash. He’s legit. The real deal. And he’ll tell you all about your love life.”

They are in the company cafeteria, at lunch, and Junhong broke up with Youngjae three days ago. Youngjae was, and remains, crushed. He thought things had been going well. Sure, they had drifted the past couple of months, but Youngjae was just working out the new responsibilities of his promotion at work, and they were going to be fine. Then out of nowhere, Junhong dumps him for some guy he meets at the dance studio. (Okay, Youngjae reasons, he’s not ‘some guy’ but Jongup, Junhong’s long-time best friend and, yes, they are kind of perfect and really adorable together, but he’s allowed to mope for a few days, right?)

Youngjae says, stabbing his fork into his salad, “I don’t need a stranger looking into a crystal ball and telling me my romantic future is going to suck, because it is going to suck.”

“You don’t _know_ that,” Himchan says, stuffing his own salad into his mouth. “But Daehyun would.”

“Is Daehyun the fortune teller?”

Himchan nods.

“Not Daehyun the Great? Daehyun the All-Seer? The Fantastic Daehyun?” Youngjae needles, chewing bitterly.

“He’s not a circus act,” Himchan says. He purses his lips in a pout. “He’s a cool guy. And a real Seer. Certified and everything. But under the radar. Even if you don’t think there’s any value in this stuff, hey, it’s fun, right? And you need to lighten up a bit. All work and no play makes Youngjae--”

“--dull and broken-up-with and alone.”

“Eh,” Himchan says, looking uncomfortable. “Right.”

Youngjae agrees to go, if only so that Himchan will never bring this up again.

.

The train takes them to District 18, near the edge of the City, where Youngjae can safely say he’s never set foot. No reason for him to, not with his job and all his company perks. No, Youngjae lives comfortably in District 4 and never really travels past District 10. “Where do you know him from, again?” he asks Himchan as the train takes them farther, humming above the tracks.

“He’s a friend of Yongguk’s,” Himchan says, and leaves it at that. “Don’t, like, spread it around that you know Daehyun or went to see him, okay? He only takes referrals from friends.”

They disembark, and Himchan takes him through a winding path of alleyways and small sidewalks, streets wedged between buildings and covered by layers of strung up drying laundry. When Youngjae is just starting to feel claustrophobic -- too accustomed to the straight grid-like architecture of the lower-numbered Districts -- Himchan sweeps him through an entryway that is only covered by a bright pink cloth.

The room they’ve entered smells of spicy incense, and the haze of that smoke colors the air slightly blue. Youngjae coughs as Himchan waves his hand in front of his face, striding forward to the counter across from the door. It’s a little reception area, Youngjae realizes, like they would have at the dentist, but instead of the slim magazine tablets and the pictures of smiling mouths for your viewing pleasure and the sterile chairs, there is a long bench covered by a couple of colorful, embroidered seat cushions and too many potted plants for Youngjae to count. There’s also a little bell on the counter. Himchan rings it.

The sound reverberates through the room and in the room behind counter, separated by a sheer curtain. A moment later, a person with a melodic voice calls out, “Be right there!” Then, the scampering of feet.

From behind the curtain emerges a boy.

Youngjae loses all higher processing for a moment, drinking the image in. That smooth, golden skin. Those lush, pink lips, slightly parted. Those eyes that seem to contain diamonds within them. The boy is wearing a white singlet and loose, black pants that taper at his ankles. He’s covered in jewelry, from the gold nose-ring chain on the left side of his face to the layered necklaces that drip from around his throat to the coin anklets at both feet. Youngjae notices makeup, too: black in a thin line around his eyes and light gold shadow and a shimmer on both cheeks.

“Himchan-hyung!” the boy calls out, smiling hugely. He comes around the counter and leaps against Himchan enthusiastically. Himchan hugs him in a bear’s grip that nearly takes the boy off his feet.

“How have you been, Daehyun?” He lets Daehyun go but hovers close.

“Good,” Daehyun says, squeaking when Himchan pinches his side. “I’m _fine_ , hyung. Jeez. And who did you bring?”

Then all of Daehyun’s attention is on Youngjae. Youngjae stares, struck dumb.

“This is Youngjae,” Himchan says when Youngjae doesn’t introduce himself. He glares at his friend with disapproval.

“Ah,” Daehyun says mysteriously. “Youngjae…”

Finally, Youngjae’s facilities come back to him. “Wait, _this_ is Daehyun, the fortune teller?” He looks at the other boy with a frown, sizing him up.

“What were you expecting?” Himchan asks.

“I don’t know. Didn’t you say he was Certified? I thought, someone older…”

“I’m older than you,” Daehyun returns, hands on his hips.

Youngjae blinks. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Ninety-four,” Daehyun says suddenly, putting both hands in front of his face like he’s framing Youngjae for a picture. “I want to say...winter baby. I’m ninety-three.”

Youngjae splutters. “What? How did you know that?”

Daehyun winks, and Youngjae’s face goes hot. Next to him, Himchan hisses his laughter, unable to contain it.

“Nah,” Daehyun confesses, turning to go behind the counter again. “I’m just kidding. Himchan-hyung has told me a little about you. So, now, what will it be? You want to know where you your career will be in 10 years? 20? You seem the corporate ladder type.”

“He wants to know if he has any romantic prospects out there,” Himchan says for him. “Who will he end up with? And how and when he’ll meet them. His soulmate.”

Youngjae shoots a glare at Himchan but remembers that he agreed to this _for fun_ and as long as he sees this through Himchan is never allowed to bother him about his love life ever again. “Yup,” he bites out.

“Just got dumped?” Daehyun asks.

“Did Himchan tell you that, too?”

Daehyun shrugs. “Lucky guess.” He pulls a tablet out from under the counter and waves his hand over the surface, turning it on and shoving it in Youngjae's face to read over his terms and conditions for Youngjae to sign. “I charge by the fact,” he informs Youngjae. “It’s not advisable to know the whole truth of the future, so charging by the fact kind of deters people from going all in. Since you’re Himchan-hyung’s friend, though, I’ll give you the first fact free.”

“Gee,” Youngjae says without any glee. “Thanks.”

Daehyun laughs. It’s a bark of a laugh, not charming in any way, but Youngjae still finds himself charmed. “Come on behind the counter, Youngjae. Let me tell you your future.”

.

_One. You already know him._

Youngjae sits at his desk and mulls over this fact Daehyun shared with him a few days ago. It’s such a generic, lazy fact. He thinks Daehyun is a fake. It annoys him that Himchan would bring him to a fake. Did he think it was funny? Was Youngjae part of a joke? Must be, considering he paid for four facts.

Statistics scroll across his screen and Youngjae types up code that will take out the outliers and anomalies for further analysis. He doesn’t do much of this grunt work anymore. Most of his time is spent advising on projects with leadership, but one guy didn’t show up to work so Youngjae volunteered to take over. He can do this sort of thing blindfolded, anyway. Thus, his mind wanders.

If he already knows the person he’s going to end up with, should he try to get the ball rolling? He lists out his options mentally.

There are Himchan and Yongguk, of course, but those two are attached at the hip and pretty much married, and there’s no way Youngjae would end up with either of them since he thinks of them both as brothers. Junhong, obviously, but things are going well with Jongup for his ex-boyfriend.

Jinyoung is definitely a no, Youngjae thinks. Though he would consider Jackson or Mark as options. Then Jaebum surfaces in his thoughts. His childhood friend. They’d also drifted over the years -- it seemed all Youngjae knew how to do for a period of his life was drift -- but they shared a closeness that remains unrivaled for Youngjae to this day. And, he thinks, he knows Jaebum is single.

Taking a break from his code, Youngjae brings up his messaging app on his phone and sends Jaebum a quick message: _Hey. It’s been a while. Want to meet up for dinner?_

.

_Two. He prefers salty to sweet food._

“How do you expect me to find the right person like this?” Youngjae complains, throwing his hands up into the air. Across from him, Daehyun grins. Youngjae had found his way back to Daehyun’s little shop, to its bright pink curtain, hoping for more clarity on his love life before his dinner date with Jaebum. He just wants to know if he’s doing the right thing, if he’s going in the right direction. He still doesn’t really like this fortune telling stuff, but if he can expedite the process of finding his one true love, that would be great.

Daehyun stands from his cushion -- he sits with clients on the floor here, sharing one fortune-fact at a time over a low table. There’s no crystal ball. Daehyun just holds both of your hands for a long time on the table top and closes his eyes and hums until he sees or feels something. There’s a bed in one corner and a wardrobe in another and a little bathroom behind another closed door. “I don’t expect you to,” Daehyun says, walking toward the wardrobe. He takes out a sweater and pulls it over his head. “You just _will._ Give it time, Youngjae.”

Youngjae scowls, thinking about his date later. He’s nervous, got butterflies in his stomach. That’s a good sign, right?

“Do you sleep here?” Youngjae asks, suddenly curious. Daehyun’s sweater is long and loose and full of rips and tears that might be from wear or for style, he can’t tell.

“I do,” Daehyun says.

Youngjae says, “Isn’t it stuffy?”

“I prefer ‘cozy.’”

“Himchan-hyung said you were Certified,” Youngjae says next, unsure why he’s so interested in Daehyun’s life. Only, it’s so _different_ from his own. It feels like another world. “Why don’t you work for the Capitol? They’re always looking for good Seers.”

“I did,” Daehyun says, coming back to sit on the cushion. “I didn’t like it.”

“But all the perks,” Youngjae presses, surprised at this new information. “They probably set you up in District 1 or 2, and they’d give you everything!”

“It wasn’t the kind of work I wanted to do,” Daehyun says with a smile. It’s the kind of smile harried waitresses wear to appease their diners. “Helping people figure out their love lives is a lot more fun. Cookie?” He offers Youngjae a cookie from a plate on the table. Youngjae declines, and Daehyun juts out his lower lip in a little frown. “No one will eat these. They’re too sweet for me.”

“This salty or sweet thing,” Youngjae asks, now back to thinking about Jaebum. “Is this like, a defining feature of my love or just a throwaway fact?”

“Depends on what’s important to you,” Daehyun teases, smiling again. His cheeks bunch up and wrinkle into little whiskers, like a cat, Youngjae thinks. There’s a beauty mark under one eye, too, that Youngjae noticed on his first visit, that his eyes keep returning to now. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Youngjae whispers, ducking his gaze.

.

_Three. He will run into trouble._

Turns out that Jaebum prefers salty to sweet food. Youngjae had asked him explicitly when their meal arrived on their date.

Their date that went very well. After sharing the news with a distracted Himchan, he thought he would go inform Daehyun that he thinks his fortune is coming to pass. He’s finding his one true love in his old childhood friend Jaebum. Unfortunately, Daehyun is not home. Youngjae rings the bell at the counter many, many times, and then goes to snoop in the room behind the curtain, but Daehyun is not there. Must have stepped out. He waves a hand over Daehyun’s tablet under the counter and leaves a message for him to find when he returns: _Came by to see you but you weren’t here :( I’ll come again soon - Youngjae_.

Then, he calls Jaebum, and Jaebum answers on the first ring.

“Youngjae!”

“Hey! I just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up for dinner again. I had a good time last time.” His lips curve into a smile against the receiver.

“I can’t tonight,” Jaebum says. “Ran into trouble with my landlord. He’s up my ass about rent and some other stuff. It’s only a day late! But I’ll make it up to you. How about tomorrow?”

Youngjae agrees readily, feeling lighthearted and giddy. In love with falling in love. He can’t wait until they start giving each other little gifts to show they’ve been thinking about each other. Even though they’ve only gone out once, he's excited about getting to know Jaebum again. “How about _Orzo_? That new place that just opened up in Three?”

“That’s perfect,” Jaebum says. “Can’t wait.”

.

_Four. He has a distinguishing mark on his face that fixates you._

_Orzo_ is a posh, sterile restaurant in a posh, sterile district, and Jaebum belongs here like a fish in water. He works in finance, which Youngjae _should_ understand but doesn’t, and orders wine off the menu in another language without stumbling at all over the different curves of the tongue.

“Nice place,” Jaebum says as the waitress glides away.

 _I picked it for you,_ Youngjae realizes, thinking about Daehyun’s cozy little room/office and all the curtains and cushions, how the incense always made his head spin pleasantly. He’d jumped into this, the same way he’d jumped into his relationship with Junhong, and now he was regretting it. They should have started smaller. Coffee or drinks. A couple of dinners. _Orzo_ is where you take someone you want to propose to. He’d let the idea of love and perfection get away from him again, like he was living in a movie.

“I hear the scallops are amazing,” Youngjae says, spitting out a movie-ready line also. Jaebum orders for them both and adds the scallops to the array of dishes they will be receiving.

Halfway through dinner he realizes they’ve run out of things to talk about. They keep circling back to old childhood stories that they’ve each told at least a hundred times, because they don’t have anything in common anymore. That’s why they drifted. Youngjae watches the way Jaebum’s mouth forms around the familiar words. He’s so handsome, Youngjae thinks, but just not for me. Before Jaebum can ask for the dessert menu, Youngjae says kindly, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Jaebum exhales in one long breath, blinking rapidly. Then he grins. “Thank god you said that. I was feeling _way_ too much pressure. We’re much better as friends, aren’t we?”

“We are.” Youngjae smiles and Jaebum returns it. It’s not so bad. He feels something warm and pleasant bubble up inside of him, and they decide to forego dessert and split ways after another round of drinks.

Buzzing a bit from the drinks and from the pleasant way things ended, Youngjae stays on the train until it takes him out to District 18 again. It’s late in the evening, way past sundown, but he hopes to catch Daehyun to tell him about Jaebum, about how he realized he was jumping into things too quickly again. About how he knows he should just give it time, like Daehyun told him.

District 18 at night is much different from the day; the streets seems narrower and even meaner, even though there are few people out and about, or maybe _because_ there are few people out and about. He’d been expecting bustling activity -- it seemed like a good area for Night Markets and the like -- but things are quiet. He gets goosebumps passing familiar alleys on the way to Daehyun’s place, and walks faster, the buzz from the alcohol quickly wearing off.

When he reaches Daehyun’s it is dark, but the gate hasn’t been brought down behind the pink curtain, so he thinks Daehyun might still be up and awake and maybe even with a client, telling their fortune. He pushes through, met with more darkness.

He blinks and lets his eyes adjust to the lack of light, the little hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing on end. The air seems charged. He notices the distinct lack of smoke in the air. There’s no incense burning. Worried and tense, now, Youngjae calls out hesitantly, “Daehyun?”

No response.

He waits a beat, then tries again. “Daehyun? Are you home?”

He tries the lights, but they don’t come on no matter how many times he flicks the switch. Something clatters to his left that makes Youngjae startle. Then, a stray cat darts past his legs and out into the night. He breathes out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He holds his phone out in front of him like a flashlight as he moves beyond the counter and into Daehyun’s room, and sees an image that makes his heart stop. Curtains torn down. Daehyun’s wardrobe smashed, one door hanging on a hinge. Cushions gutted and strewn everywhere. He feels a gasp wrench its way out of his throat, verging on a sob. “ _Oh my god_.”

Signs of violence everywhere, his phone shaking in his hand. He should call the police. Instead, he calls Himchan.

Himchan answers almost immediately. “Youngjae.”

“I’m at Daehyun’s,” Youngjae says hysterically. “Oh my god, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s _trashed_. God, what happened? Do you think he’s okay? Do you know--”

“He’s with me,” Himchan interrupts. “I’ve got him; he’s fine. Just a little shaken up. Do you -- want to see him?”

.

Daehyun used to the work for the Capitol. Technically, he should still be working for the Capitol. That’s all Daehyun will say as he tries to sip tea out of a mug Himchan prepared for him, wrapped in blankets on Himchan’s couch. It’s strange to see Daehyun without all that jewelry on his face, bare and naked and intimate, fresh from Himchan’s shower, but Youngjae thinks he still looks radiant.

“I got out with Yongguk’s help,” he says, finally setting the mug down. His fingers were shaking too hard. “It was awful in there. No freedom. Just work. And work was being hooked up to this machine that forced the visions out of you. You’d get sick off it, but they wouldn’t unhook you until they got something good. Then you could rest for a little bit, but it was never enough. They’re still looking for me. It was a close call tonight.” He shivers, draws the blankets tighter around his shoulders, and Youngjae has the sudden urge to hold him, to keep him warm. Himchan is in his kitchen heating up food for them all to eat. It’s how he fixes things, by making sure everyone is fed.

Youngjae slowly sits on the couch next to Daehyun, afraid he might spook him, but Daehyun watches him sit, licking his lips. “I knew I had to get out,” he whispers, “so that I could meet you.”

The admission gives Youngjae pause, but it doesn’t surprise him. Somehow, it feels right. Ever since he met Daehyun, he hasn’t stopped thinking about him. About the way he smiles. The dot under his eye. His ugly, charming laughter.

“Are you freaking out?” Daehyun asks him, and Youngjae shakes his head.

“No.”

“Good,” Daehyun says, his voice dangerously watery, “because I’d really like you to hold me right now.”

Youngjae immediately opens up his arms and Daehyun falls into them, a perfect fit. He cradles him into his lap, petting his hair, discovering it for the first time. “Are we going to be okay?” he asks Daehyun, wondering at how the future works now, one person who jumps into things too quickly and another who knows how it will all end. He wants them to work. He wants to get to know Daehyun slowly, fully and deeply. He wants to fall in love.

“Yes,” Daehyun whispers, hopeful. “We’ll face a lot of challenges together,” he continues, “but we’ll be okay.”

.

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY
> 
> update:
> 
> So, guys. There's this fun BAP Fic Fest that comes around every once in a while called [The Brownie Bunch](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/the_brownie_bunch_4/profile) and you should definitely check it out! We have [writer-sign ups](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1drLNQ47Z8uXLt9W4w2g82kHdTEX9Ti5-e5Zng-0u6aA/viewform?c=0&w=1) open now, and prompting will begin soon~ It'll be super fun, and you can feel free to message me @andnowforyaya on twitter if you have questions!


End file.
